Mid April is a busy season for me. April brings taxes and the major review of all the slides
from almost 400 applicants to the Fourth Street Festival of Art. I also serve as a reviewer for the Bloomington Arts
Commission grants and this year, a juror for the NanoArt exhibit sponsored by
Wonderlab. The latter was
something fun and new because I had to look through over 50 beautiful images
from microscopes, usually from living things. When I wasn’t poring over grants, taxes, and images of wee art, I kept my large format
commission piece moving forward. I
finished weaving the background while my frame-maker, Tom Bertolacini, came
through with the giant frame. I’ve
had some past experiences with the landscape format oak frames bowing from the
stretching of the piece.
That
meant a quick trip out to Kleindorfer’s hardware and some expert advice. After some conversations with the
fellows there, I picked up two slats of steel, six feet long by an inch wide and
an eighth of an inch thick. I cut
them to size to reinforce the back of the frame and I drilled holes every six
inches to merge steel and wood.
When the rains finally subside and the weather warms up I’ll get outside
and paint the frame. That will
allow me to stretch out the background in the frame and move on with completing
the piece. I’ll know when the
rains let up because the artesian spring in my art studio will stop flowing so
robustly. I capture most of the
water with towels (the rug is rolled back) that I spin out and dry.
I decided that while I had a little
‘free’ time I should clean out the veranda. It becomes a bit of a dumping ground over the fall and
winter, and I'm just as guilty as the boys when it comes to stashing stuff out
there. My first big project was
dealing with the mountain of fleece I inherited over the past year or so. The first step is skirting the
fleece. That might sound elegant,
but what it really means is that I trim out the sheep poo. People who think art is full of all glamorous activities
have no idea! After I washed the
trimmed fleece I leave it sitting outside in mesh trays. I systematically pull apart clumps of
the fleece to untangle it.
Normally that would be pretty tedious, but the last couple of days have been
in the upper seventies with a slight breeze and birds singing. Playing with the fleece and
straightening things up is just a wonderful excuse to sit outside.
The first fleece that I washed a couple of weeks ago was the
darkest fleece. I used that to create the foreground
tree in the commission piece. I
needle felted that tree structure and found dark brown yarns in my collection
that I'll use to create the branches for the tree.
I also did all of the crocheting to make the leaf clumps so I feel like
pieces of the work are coming together.
As I’ve described before, I create the inside of trees I’ve been making
from Grandpa’s old army blankets. Sadly,
when I began this piece I cut into the last of the supply. That's a problem because the flagstones
that make up the path are also made from old army blankets. Not to worry though—Karma has been
looking out for me. I have to tell
a story to have this make sense, so indulge me for a moment. A couple of months ago I took some of
my pieces to the fifth grade class at Binford Elementary School to show the
kids because one of the pieces was inspired by a drawing sketched by one of the
kids (Tethered Memories). During my
conversation with them I mentioned that I had one last army blanket for my
artwork. One insightful student
asked what I would do for tree trunks when that was gone. I told her that something would
appear—it always seems to. Fast
forward to this week. I visited
the Recycle Center and—lo and behold—what should I find but an army
blanket! I had to complete the
circle so I told the teacher when I saw her at the Carnival last Friday. She is looking forward to telling the
students.
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Until next week,